


The High Lady of Spring

by illyriantremors



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Calanmai, F/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Post-ACOTAR3, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 11:30:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7975270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyriantremors/pseuds/illyriantremors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elain has been made the High Lady of Spring, but she's yet to experience her first Calanmai... until now. Lucien takes her into the cave and shows her the ropes. Super NSFW and as it's set after a would be ACOTAR3, obviously there are spoilers to this. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The High Lady of Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nesrynfaliq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nesrynfaliq/gifts).



> This fic is inspired by a tumblr post written by Valamerys discussing the possibilities of Lucien and Elain becoming High Lord and Lady of Spring. The post mentioned Calanmai and well, the idea got going.
> 
> This fic is also for Lauren, who has so inspired me with her beautiful writing and mentioned in her reblog tags of ^that post that she would really love to see an Elucien Calanmai fic, so that's where this came from Hope you like it, Lauren! I tried, but I'm sure it pails in comparison to whatever lovely descriptions you would have written, haha. She is the master writer of us all.

Lucien was nervous, Elain could tell.

The fox swept up and down the length of her dressing room in long strides fumbling over the constant stream of words spewing out of his mouth. They shared a room together usually, but tonight, Elain had insisted she be allowed to dress herself as she pleased with privacy. Lucien assumed it was because she was nervous too, but Elain had other intentions.

“I really think we should go down together,” Lucien said as he paced. Elain didn’t say anything, but rather stared at her reflection in the mirror mounted on the cream colored walls trying not to roll her eyes. She had a simple pale blue dress on the color of spring skies. She began fussing with her hair hoping Lucien would think this was the extent of what he was getting later on so she could better save the surprises she had in store for him.

The dress was far too demure for a night like Calanmai and her hair too done up. It sat in an intricate weave of knots and braids that she’d enjoyed pinning in place earlier to whittle away the long wait until the sun fell out of the sky and her dance for the night would begin. But despite the wait, she was not nervous.

After the war with Hybern, Lucien had come in to Tamlin’s powers upon his death and was made High Lord of Spring. Elain hadn’t known him long, but the change that came over him was immediate the second he was crowned. She knew of his past in his former court - the one she preferred not to even speak of - and she knew how much he had never really rid himself of those shadows.

There were many times during the war when confrontation with the Autumn Court was possible until it was no longer simply possible, but imminent, and then eventually unavoidable. Lucien’s body became cramped and tight. Elain could hear his normally slick tongue wet with snark and retort go silent as the grave the day they met his brothers. The battle that had ensued on the fields was even worse.

That changed when Tamlin died. Lucien was the closest confidant Tamlin had and without a successor, the powers of the Spring Court passed to the fox from the northern border - her mate.

Well, she’s wasn’t quite his mate yet.

When Elain saw the powers come to Lucien crowning him High Lord of Spring, she was so intensely captivated by the change in his expression, how it shifted from one of tense control and hopelessness to one of rebirth and ease. But most of all, she saw a fire glowing behind his eyes, some of the old fire he’d lost or maybe been too scared until now to reclaim. It excited her beyond measure to see him find a way to keep one foot in both worlds and not fall apart doing so.

And she _wanted_ it for herself, too. Badly.

Mating seemed difficult, elusive to Elain. She was so used to courtship and marriage that thinking those institutions irrelevant under the looming, impressive shade of mating scared her. She often found herself pondering how Feyre had done it. Feyre, who seemed so at home in the Night Court with her High Lord in ways she had never appeared with her own flesh and blood. Being fae had changed her for the better and Elain wanted to come into her own that way too. There was no going back and Elain was tired of never going forward.

She only had to figure out Lucien. He was the final piece in the puzzle to solve. And though it seemed a backwards way of doing things at first, becoming High Lady of Spring seemed a pretty good way to start stitching the puzzle together.

Lucien had outright laughed when Elain had asked. She could still feel the burn in her cheeks from the embarrassment she felt then, but she straightened her back and stared him down until he realized what he’d done and immediately came crashing down over her with kisses and understanding.

He held her firmly in his arms and Elain nuzzled her face into the side of his neck, breathing deep the scent of him. She could smell the grass and the garden flowers that had rooted into him with his new High Lord’s powers, but there was also still a faint trace of the apples and spices of the Autumn Court. Those she loved best because it told her the Lucien she’d known before the Spring Court - the one she’d fallen in love with - was still there. She could feel _his_ heart beating beneath her hand on his chest.

It wasn’t that the idea of a High Lady was absurd to Lucien. Far from it in fact. Feyre was proof enough of that and never again would he be so skeptical. But they hadn’t even mated yet and becoming a High Lady - to take over responsibility for an entire court - it was a duty and an honor above all else, even a mate bond. It had simply seemed odd that Elain would want that part first, but when she explained how much more tangible it was to her mind than mating, he agreed to it.

They would go slow. However slow was necessary for Elain to adjust. He gave in to her every want and whim, whatever would make her feel most at home in Spring. High Lady was the beginning, followed by slow, delicate love making in the grassy hills outside the manor, and finally they were married in front of the entire court. Elain had yellow daisies strung through her hair that day and her dress had been palest pink. It was perhaps the first day she had felt truly fae standing there at the alter claiming Lucien in such a human way while dressed and designed the opposite.

All that was left was to allow the mate bond to snap in place fully and Elain would find completion in her life, something she never thought possible anymore the day Hybern had stolen her and Nesta out of their home. Tonight, that would change.

It had been an effort to get away from Lucien during the day, but somehow Elain had managed it. She would see _plenty_ of him tonight at the festival. Eventually, he tracked her down and interrupted her silent meditations on the coming activities and Elain couldn’t help but to feel a little perturbed. He was more nervous than she was, like a coin spinning and spinning on its side ever ready to topple over flat and unmoving at a moment’s notice.

Was it because of her? Did he not think she could handle the night? She who made the flowers bloom and the skies sing at her every look and thought? She who shared the power of Spring with him, who commanded the earth below her feet and made it quake or grow as she willed it? Was she not his High Lady? His wife? His equal in every way and soon to be his mate?

Lucien sighed, finally arresting his pacing at the wall opposite where Elain stood. She could see his back turned to her in the mirror as he bent over the wall, one hand fisted against it. His long auburn hair fell forward off his shoulders shading his face entirely from view, like a curtain behind which he might hide from her.

“I just don’t want you to be surprised when you see me,” he said, all trace of confidence from his voice gone. “I don’t want you to think _less_ of me for what I might do to you, how the magic will take over.”

Not might, but will. 

Elain’s shoulders fell, sorrowful understanding gripping her heart. This wasn’t about her. She felt foolish to think it ever was. He had made her his High Lady after all. They trusted each other implicitly and nothing could shake that, but she understood now that Lucien was simply scared. Scared of how tonight would change them for better or for worse. Scared that Elain might see a dark, feral part of him that was wild and untamed and maybe even the tiniest bit mean.

Perhaps that was why the mate bond was so important, she thought. It wiped away those inhibitions. Lucien could trust Elain with his heart all he wanted, but without the mate bond, there would always be some knowing piece missing, the piece that said they would take each other whatever they were and never doubt that the bond would allow them to last through it all.

Elain glided up to Lucien, slid her hands around his neck pulling his hair back from his covered face. Then she turned him to face her and grabbed his cheeks between her hands and covered his mouth with a hot, slow kiss, one that was deep and meant to soothe. No more doubts. No more fears. Not tonight nor ever again.

She felt the bond between them pull taut as if in recognition of what was to come. It urged her on to deepen the kiss, make the moment happen right then and there, but Elain swatted it away. There would be time for that later. Right now was about this precise moment, making Lucien see her properly so he could understand that nothing about him scared her. He was her husband, her beloved, her High Lord, and she loved him for being all of those things.

“I _love_ you,” Elain said, pulling out of the kiss and making sure to drag out the second word. Her eyes were still closed and she could sense Lucien’s were too as he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his forehead carefully against her own. “I love you, Lucien,” Elain said again, “and nothing and no one is going to change that. Even you. I am not scared.”

He pulled her against him hard and covered her mouth with another kiss, this time soft and subtle. It was a kiss of gratitude, one so quiet and so meek Elain had to cut off all of her other senses to grasp it. His lips hovered over hers lightly grazing as if he was so in awe, so humbled that his body was too trembling to finish the kiss. And he would lower himself to worship there at the altar of her lips forever and ever if she would let him, never worthy of the total acceptance she answered his prayers with.

“Lucien,” Elain whispered, low and heady. “I’m ready for you. Now go, before you make me change my mind.” She opened her eyes and found him watching her. With a wink, she pecked a quick final kiss to his lips and shooed him from the room, relieved at the blush creeping over his scarlet face. She loved to make him blush like that, to squirm under her caresses and power. 

Moving back to the mirror, Elain stripped off the blue dress until she was completely naked. She stared at herself hard looking for inspiration for the task she had at mind. Her breasts were high and firm, a little peaked even from the soft kisses she’d just shared with her husband. Her waist was taut and slim before pulling out into the sweeping curve of her hips, the long slender length of her legs. She gave a turn and took in the site of her back, now fresh with muscle from training and fighting throughout the war, and her rear was round and firm. She approved of the changes her fae body had brought. It made her feel stronger, better. 

Next, she undid her hair, allowing the twists and braids to come undone in a loose cascade. She flipped over and shook her hair about until the tendrils became a wild length of tangles and curls, the way they would look if she’d slept with her hair wet and woke up in the morning to find it knotted and a mess.

She wanted to look exotic. She wanted to look fae. But even more so, she wanted to _feel_ it. Through the open windows of her room, Elain could hear the music faintly stirring in the distance. Nothing too overpowering yet, but a subtle announcement that the night was soon to be upon her, an invitation to the party.

In the final rays of sunlight, Elain grabbed the jar of paints she’d been hiding in her dresser and set to work. She had borrowed them from Feyre and when her sister asked why she needed them, Elain had blurted out the truth wondering if it would seem too stupid and out of place among the other fae. But her sister had surprised her in her reaction.

“You want to cover your body in paint?” she had asked, eyes wide.

Elain nodded. “Not like your tattoos,” she explained, pointing to Feyre’s arms and thinking of the matching swirls that covered her Illyrian friends. “More tribal, fanciful. Not a war cry or a bond. Just… magic?”

Feyre smiled. She got a far off look in her eye that made Elain think her sister was temporarily transported to another time and place, maybe something to do with Rhysand, she didn’t quite know. Just when she was starting to doubt and say that it was a stupid idea, nevermind, Feyre sighed and said, “I think that’s a _wonderful_ idea, Elain.”

She handed over the paints without another word.

When Elain was done, she took another long look at herself in the mirror. She had chosen a chalky white paint, one that would stand out in the moonlight so Lucien could see it clearly. The trails of paint she had inked along her skin covered her breasts and stomach before traipsing over her hips so they could meet what Elain could reach of her rear and lower back. A few final marks covered the back of her thighs and she was done.

And when Elain was honest with herself, she had to admit that she liked what she saw. There were flowers and lines that might have been blades of grass or abstract patches of wind. But there were also sharp jagged lines, lines for the hardness of fall and sacrifice that were another message for her Lucien that she accepted all of him, past and present. It was nothing as perfectly detailed as what Feyre could have painted, but Elain didn’t care. She looked wild and free and fae and she _loved it all_.

A few final swipes of paint under her eyes gave her an animalistic look. She stared into those eyes, at herself, and decided she was ready. She had meant it when she told Lucien. She was ready for him, for Calanmai, for the mating bond - all of it, including herself.

With a wicked smirk, Elain shrugged on the real dress she would wear tonight not bothering with undergarments and headed out into the fires of Calanmai just as the sun fell over the horizon.

 

* * *

 

 

The beating of the drums was a savage catharsis that called to Elain’s blood as she made her way through the hills and towards the festival. The pounding beat in time with her steps orchestrating a symphony on the grass for her body to dance to. She loved the sound of it, that insistent thrumming in her ears. It shouted at her that this was right, this was true, she was headed in the right direction towards her destiny: High Lady, wife, child of Spring.

And mate.

But the fires - oh, the fires were the fiercest part. A torrential pyre of smoke and steam that burned her fears away as it climbed higher and higher as though it might cover the moon and burn that away too. The light was blinding, like looking into the brightest star just as it collapsed and sent pieces exploding all over the galaxy. And yet, Elain could not look away. It drew her in closer and closer, coaxing a dangerous untapped portion of her soul out of hiding.

When she finally crested the main hill where throngs of fae gathered, her heart beat a wild rhythm that was both excited and already drunk on power. Fae parted for her as she approached recognizing who she was. Some of them grinned at the purpose in her eyes as she made for the cave, knowing exactly what awaited her. And for the first time, Elain found she did not care. 

What did it matter that the entire court knew what she was to do tonight? What did it matter that she was on display for their eyes to drink up? Yes, Lucien was to perform a wickedly wonderful act on her tonight, but did they not realize what she would do to _him_ in the process? 

After a quick detour at one of the banquet tables heavy laden with food and drink, Elain came before the mouth of the cave. The music wound to an unbearable height, frantic and pulsing with the lust and desire already coursing through Elain’s veins as Lucien strode out of the cave, as if he sensed her arrival.

Her mate was dressed in deepest crimson and gold, his shirt loose and unbuttoned to expose his powerful strong chest. He’d kept his hair down in a smooth cascade and Elain was happy for it. The better to run her fingers through it and mess it up, she thought. But it was his eyes that made Elain stop dead in her tracks. Lucien’s eyes including his metal one were fixated on her with a stare so piercing, it might have been lethal in any other context. The russet color of his remaining good eye was sharp as his eyelids narrowed and he scanned her body up and down.

She was transfixed by the gaze, the gaze so full of lust and longing. There was no softness left in Lucien. Nothing of their gentle lovemaking in the meadows behind his eyes. Even the scar on his face called out to her in a battle cry for her body. Tonight would be a fever, hot and demanding. Elain squared her shoulders and returned Lucien’s carnal stare, ecstatic beyond reason when his eyes widened pleasurably at her lack of fear before his new state awakened state.

And then she threw herself at him, ran at a full sprint through the parted crowd towards her mate while the fae yelled and cheered and she pounced on him, her legs wrapping around his waist and her lips capturing his with a hard crush. The crowd burst into an uncontrollable cry that was half applause, half a cat-call as Lucien’s hands seized his High Lady and carried her into the cave. 

The sound of the fae was no more distant in the cave further from their presence than when she had been outside it. And the drums continued to beat their steady music egging them on. Elain slid her legs off Lucien and found him already groping for her, but she pushed him back roughly to stop him. She knew she wouldn’t have much time, especially when she was about to shock him so, but she would take him in no other way.

Lucien looked angry at being immediately denied the delights of his High Lady’s body, Calanmai’s magic taking over in his blood, but when Elain stepped back, he was entranced by her every movement as her hands found the tie at her waist and pulled. The dress fell off her landing at her feet, bearing her all before him. Elain watched Lucien’s eyes roam the trails of paint she had inked over herself, getting drunk on the way it bewitched him. He fell to his knees with a hungry, ravenous look on his face, his hands collapsing next on the dirt where his fingers dug in to keep his desire at bay, lest he attack.

Elain had never felt so powerful, so in control of herself. She realized standing there that become fae had allowed her to make herself into a new creation. She was a woman first the time with Lucien, but she was also so much more than that now. She was free. She was her own person. She was soul and earth and sky made manifest.

And she was to be his and his alone at long last.

Nearly crushed between her fingers from her initial jump over Lucien, Elain spread open her hand to reveal a sticky square of lemon cake. She’d nicked it from the banquet tables. Lucien stared at the square cake, his eyes going wide.

“By the time this night is over,” Elain said in a strong, commanding voice she had never heard. “I don’t want there to be a single part of me you haven’t touched. By the time you’re through with me, Lucien, I don’t want there to be a doubt in anyone’s mind as to who I am. Make me yours in every way. Make it hurt. Make it burn.” She took a bite of the lemon cake and ran her tongue over her lips, rolling her head as she went licking some of the icing off one of her fingers. Her eyes never left his own, so full and starving for her, the entire time. “Make me your mate, Lucien.” 

Lucien sat on all fours panting as she rolled her lips back and forth over each other, soaking in the taste of the cake. “I’m supposed to eat that,” was all he managed to say and he sounded not like Lucien, not even like a fox, but as a bear or a lion might sound ready to roar with the victory of a fight.

Elain shrugged as though she didn’t care allowing the mischief to dance in her eyes, like the cake was merely there for decorum’s sake. “Eat me,” Elain said and she popped the remaining bite of cake in her mouth, wiping her hands of the crumbs and spreading her arms apart in silent invitation.

Lucien snapped, springing forward on his feet with a guttural growl and pulling her down to the ground in a rough entanglement. His mouth covered hers, his tongue slicing her lips apart and sweeping into her mouth to taste her insides. His tongue caught bits of the lemon cake, sweet and tangy on his tongue. Elain moaned at the feel of him thrashing about inside her mouth so needy, so demanding as if he could never get enough.

His hands gripped her skin in a hard embrace and he began licking his way down her chin, her neck sending shivers of pleasure up and down her body. A tightening in her core that had started up long before she’d reached the cave intensified, making the desperate need between her legs grow. She wanted him. She wanted him _so badly_ she might not survive this cave. She wanted him inside of her, on her, around her, on her tongue and every bare inch of skin she had.

Lucien snarled when his fingers dipped below her hips, rubbing lazily in the hairs above her apex. He enjoyed the natural feel of her, how perfectly she fit into the mold of his hands. When he pressed a little lower and felt her wetness, a new form of paint she’d inked especially for him as her dress had fallen off, the noise that came out of him was so foreign and primal, Elain might have shattered just at the sound of it.

Suddenly, she found Lucien sitting up beside her, his feet going up past her head so that he could push himself back against the ground in the opposite direction from her. He pulled her body close to him on her side, taking her furthermost leg and resting it over his shoulder before he dove into her center and pressed his lips and tongue against her clit.

Elain shuddered, the immediate sensation of pleasure cracking open the tightening at her core. His lips parted moving slightly lower until his tongue was working against her, darting in and out of her in quick, rapid movements. A sharp cry came out of her and she could have sworn there were renewed chants and cheers outside the cave. Her leg around him pressed in tighter in response.

The need to have him - _all_ of him - grew again with renewed vigor. Her hands shot next to her abandoning the shallow holes she had dug into the ground as Lucien had done in her growing ecstasy. They latched on to the first thing they found - his pants, and began grappling with the zipper until it was undone and she had freed the hard length of him. Shoving the fabric of his pants as far as she could manage while Lucien continued to work her, she brought her mouth down over his cock and gave one long, hard suck of it.

Lucien groaned at the touch. But whereas any other time they had made love, such a move would have stopped him dead in his tracks with the shock of her taking him like this, this time Elain did it, he only increased his speed on her, making her body continue to shake with the feel of him tasting her.

So she tasted him right back, ate him alive with her tongue lapping over the tip of him in teasing, tantalizing licks. She sucked and pulled on him with her mouth, tight over his shaft, and what she could not fit inside herself, she grabbed with her hand. He felt immense and hard as she took him and she knew he liked it by the way his cock twitched at her every touch and his pace quickened on her center.

Finally, she started to feel her body ache to the point of bursting and it was an effort to hold on to him. Lucien’s lips sucked her roughly, his teeth grazing her clit. She took him in another long stroke in her mouth with more pressure than before as he worked her and the reaction sent his hand slapping onto her rear in a hard grip, his fingers pressing onto her skin with enough force to leave a mark.

And that did it. Elain’s mouth sprang free of his cock as she shattered, her back arching away from him, the orgasm coursing out of her in waves. She’d never felt so undone, so untamed and _she loved it_. Loved what he could do to her.

Lucien helped her through the end of her pulses, but the moment it was over, he had stood, pulling her up with him and shoving her against the wall, her stomach pressed flat against the stone of the cave. He pushed himself against her back and his hands found her hips to lift her up just enough so that he could slide himself inside her. Elain moaned loudly at the feel of him entering her, already ready for more of him, aching desperately with the need to _feel_ him move. Her hands slammed onto the wall and slipped downwards looking for something to grip.

Lucien made a quick thrust inside her, his lips finding her neck in a storm of bites and kisses that sent Elain gasping. Her hands reached back wanting to feel some part of him on her fingertips for herself, to not let him do all the work. She liked feeling him, liked sending him into a tailspin as much as he enjoyed putting her into one. She ran her hands up and down his neck in time with his thrusts, quickening them from minute to minute and his pace matched her.

His hands slid between her body and the wall of the cave, one sliding up to grope her breast. It was peaked and full in his hands and when his fingers pinched the nipple there, Elain shouted his name into the night. _“Lucien!”_ she panted, her head falling back onto his shoulder. He snarled once more, hot with the scent of her as she started to come again for him. His second hand slid down between her legs and felt for her clit, pressing in on her in rough, ardent circles.

Elain twisted her head against his shoulder and their eyes met. She felt it then, the mate bond tethering them to each other like a thread that could not be cut, a flower that could not be picked to whither away in a vase and die. Their love was alive and free and perfect, exactly as Elain felt being held in his arms as he took her. And when she looked into his eyes, the mask of Calanmai’s magic briefly fell and she was once again looking at Lucien - _her_ Lucien, the one she had learned to love so fiercely and finally, he was looking back at her without the doubts and hesitations of earlier. There was only love, only trust, only his High Lady and wife and _mate_ glowing reflected back at her.

Lucien seemed to feel the same connection thrumming between them. He breathed a whispered, exhausted, _“Elain_ ,” into her ear, pressing his fingers harder against her clit as he thrusted and felt her come, clenching tight around him. Elain’s thighs squeezed together as much as they could, tightening around Lucien inside of her and a few moments later he spilled himself within her, a roar on his lips so deafening and consuming that rocks fell from the top shelves of the cave and the music beyond was momentarily silenced. 

Elain was exhausted, but though she trembled against the wall as she came down from the high, she had to see him properly. She batted at him with her hands until he slid himself gently out of her and she twisted around in his arms, kissing him deeply as she had in her dressing room earlier that day. When their lips parted, she ran her fingers through his hair and along the scar over his eye making sure to keep their bodies very firmly pressed against one another.

“My mate,” she whispered against his skin. A promise never to let go, never to doubt, only to be whole and happy with him. “My mate, my mate, my beautiful wonderful - _Lucien_.”

His hands wrapped fully around her pulling her up into a warm, full embrace. “I love you,” he said into her hair, her ear, her every space of existence. Then his eyes fell downward at her body taking in the smears of paint now caked all over her in white, blotchy patches, the evidence of their bond. But Elain was not ashamed.

An adventurous spirit took over her then, seizing control of her soul. She was high fae and this was her first Calanmai and she would be damned if the High Lady of the Spring Court was not going to make the most of every bit of it. She wanted to prove to everyone now, not just Lucien, that she was a power and a force to be reckoned with, revered and worshiped by her people.

“Come,” she said, taking his hand. “Let’s go show them what we’ve done.”

Lucien stumbled pointing towards their clothes strewn about the floor, but Elain only giggled and tugged on his hand harder as she bounced out of the cave a wild thing, naked save for her smeared white paint. It glowed off her body in the moonlight shimmering in waves as she turned and jumped in time to the beating drums that met her when she left the cave. And when Lucien saw how uninhibited she was, how free and untamed, he lost his hesitations too and followed, joining her in the dance.

If he thought he need worry over how the others would receive her - especially when they’d just mated and here Elain was naked in front of every male in the Spring Court - he shouldn’t have. The throngs of high fae shouted cries of celebration as Elain sprang forth from the cave in her wildness, glad at the union, glad that the war was over and they could live again, before they too either joined the dance or coupled off to make their own magic.

Elain was ravishing. As she twirled and swayed with the drums, a group of high fae women approached to give her pause. She stopped and allowed them to string a garland of roses in her hair, peonies around her neck, and marigolds over her arms and stomach. One of the females suddenly appeared next to Lucien and pulled him towards Elain gracing him with the same crown of flowers until his body was just as covered. The women took a few strands of the flowers from them both and tied them together between their bodies, a perfect union of Spring bound together forever.

Lucien took Elain into his arms when their work was done. The females ran off with smiles of pure joy on their faces. “Look at you,” Lucien said grinning from ear to ear. “Look at you, Elain. You are positively enchanting. Mother Earth herself, come to make fools of us all.” Elain smiled, her hand cupping his cheek.

“You’re the only fool I want,” she said. “ _My_ fool. My _mate._ ”

He hummed low in his throat, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers just for a moment, taking in the perfect peace within him. He was happy, Elain thought. Truly hopeful for the first time. She thought her heart might burst because of it. When he opened his eyes, she made sure he saw her smiling at him, radiant and ethereal as ever. “Will you show me?” she asked, nodding towards the bonfires and the music of the fae. “Will you show me everything?”

“Everything and more,” Lucien promised.

And so, he did.

xx


End file.
